


Saturday in the Park (I Think it was the Fourth of July)

by deakystoast_georgesbiscusts



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Boys In Love, John doesn't know how to be a human, M/M, john is a bi disaster, martha is low key a mclennon shipper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:48:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24051592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deakystoast_georgesbiscusts/pseuds/deakystoast_georgesbiscusts
Summary: John finds himself at a park on a burning hot day. He meets a beautiful man who changes his life. And his dog.
Relationships: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 8
Kudos: 77





	Saturday in the Park (I Think it was the Fourth of July)

It was hot. That's all John could think about. The sweltering heat that caused beads of sweat to drip uncomfortably and relentlessly down his back. He silently cursed the sun, scanning the park for a shady spot under a tree. Unfortunately, many people had had a similar idea. Under each of the few trees, were a cluster of people, safely sheltered from the sun's unforgiving rays.

It was all Ringo's fault. 

"You need to get out of the house!" He had told John, who was curled up on the couch with all of the curtains closed, "It's a beautiful day!"

John had just groaned and turned away from the smaller man.  
It was Ringo's fault that John was in a park surrounded by terribly loud people in the dead of summer. 

The only reason, John thought, that Ringo had kicked him out of the house was so he and George, his boyfriend, could have 'alone time'.

John didn't even know what to do. What do people do in parks? Tan? Play football? Read? No. John couldn't tan because of his horribly pale English skin, he couldn't play football because he didn't have one. Why couldn't he have just picked up his book while Ringo was pushing him out of the dilapidated old door? 

What was he supposed to do, enjoy being outside? That's stupid. He needed something to do. Maybe someone would be willing to strike up a conversation.  
Unfortunately, no one in the entire grassy expanse looked interesting. So John just stood awkwardly, bathing in his own sweat. He just wanted to go home, but he knew if he did, he would see George and Ringo doing things that no one would ever want to see. 

John slumped down onto the itchy grass, shielding his eyes from the sun with one calloused hand. He groaned and collapsed onto his back, closing his eyes. 

"MARTHA!" A masculine voice yelled, causing John to jolt up. Even though, last time he checked, his name wasn't Martha. 

Before he could even turn to look at the source of the voice, a grey and white blob jumped into his vision and tackled him over, thudding against his sweaty chest and knocking the wind out of him with a loud groan.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" A voice said, the same one that had been calling for Martha earlier. 

John opened his eyes to see a large grey and white Sheepdog drooling on his face with its huge rubbery pink tongue sticking out happily.

"Are you okay?" There was that voice again, so concerned for his well being.

Oh. This was probably his dog, Martha if John had to take a guess.  
John wiped the saliva off of his face and laughed, "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks. Is this your dog?" He asked, rubbing the fluffy dog's head fondly.

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, she is... playful, to say the least," he said with a small laugh, pulling the dog back off of John.

John got a good look at the man and WOW. He might as well have been sculpted by the gods: thin arched eyebrows; ebony hair that flopped down across his forehead; tall, thin frame, but still strangely muscular; and his eyes, GOD, his eyes, huge and hazel, vaguely resembling the eyes on a doe. They seemed to stare into his soul, the colours shifting and swirling the longer John looked at him.

The angelic man held out a hand, "I'm Paul, and this is Martha."

"I'm Paul. No. That's not right... You're Paul, I'm John." John stammered, his face burning as he took Paul's hand.

Paul laughed loudly pulled him up with surprising strength, "Well, it's lovely to meet you, John."

God. Who was this guy and who gave him the right to be that attractive? He was just barely taller than John, but had a confidence about him that made John feel minuscule next to the stunning man. Paul smiled at him. John's heart beat out of his rib cage.

"I feel like I owe you something because Martha tackled you," Paul admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and fiddling with Martha's leash in the other.

John laughed softly, "Paul, I swear I'm fine. But I wouldn't refuse any time spent with you," he said with a wink. Paul's face rapidly faded to a dark red as he stared at the lush grass. "You know, I'm serious, Paul. My roommate kicked me out and I have no idea what people do at parks. So, your company would be wonderful, and Martha's of course."

Paul looked at him apologetically, "I'm sorry your roommate kicked you out. If you need a place to stay-" 

John cut him off with loud, unapologetic laughter, "Oh no! He didn't actually kick me out, he just wanted to fuck his boyfriend and couldn't do that while I was still there." He explained.

Pauls face somehow turned a darker shade of red, "Oh. I- uhh... Do you wanna walk Martha with me?"

John smiled, "Of course! I would never refuse time with such a gorgeous, elegant, stunning creature," he smirked at Paul, whose blush had gone darker than John thought humanly possible, "And you too, I guess."

Paul smacked him playfully on the arm, as if they had been friends for years and hadn't met five minutes ago. John grinned at him, stroking Martha's furry head.

"Well, what are you standing around for? My dog needs exercise!" Paul joked, smiling widely at John. 

There was that fluttery feeling again. John grinned back, taking Martha's leash from Paul and walking away.

Paul gasped, "You're stealing my dog! Martha, stay strong! I... Will... Find you!" He called dramatically, walking in slow motion towards John and Martha.

John flicked auburn hair out of his eyes and pushed his glasses further up on his long nose, sniggering at Paul's antics. Warmth flooded through him, along with the urge to grab Paul's face in both hands and mash their mouths together. John never understood kissing. Why do people have the urge to shove their food holes against each other? It was strange. But, John had the urge quite often.

"What's going on inside your head, Johnny?" Paul asked, staring at John with his brilliant kaleidoscopic eyes.

"I was thinking about how weird kissing is. Like, that's where food goes! Why do people want to put their mouths there?!" John exclaimed, drawing a delighted laugh from Paul.

"That's the strangest thing to think about!"

John smirked, "Trust me, you've never been inside my head. It's a mind reader's nightmare!"

John and Paul chatted away like old friends, Martha panting happily between them. John felt a strange feeling towards Paul, one that he had never felt towards anyone before, and it only got stronger the more time he was with the stunning man. John tossed an arm around Paul's broad shoulders, the other hand still tightly around Martha's leash

"Johnny?" Paul asked, leaning into John's touch and resting his head on his shoulder.

"Yeah, Paulie?" John responded, resting his cheek on Paul's soft hair.

"It's starting to get dark," he pointed out. John looked up and noticed the sky was fading to soft oranges and pinks, the moon rising brightly.

"So?"

Paul let out a soft, breathy laugh, a sound that John wanted to treasure forever. "John, we've been walking for hours. I've gotta get Martha home."

John sighed, "Do you have to go?"

Paul looked at him with a sad smile, "I'm sorry, love."

John's heart jumped, LOVE! Even though he knew that Paul simply used it as a term of endearment, John still felt a sharp wave of heat course through him.

"Okay..." He sighed. Paul stopped walking and faced John. 

"Johnny, it's not like we're never going to see each other again. I've got a phone, you can call me whenever."

"Well, I can't without your number," John winked. Rosy pink dusted across Paul's round cheeks.

Paul grinned, "Can I see your phone?" John reached into the pocket of his shorts and pulled out his old cracked phone. Paul typed his number into John's device and handed it back to him. "There. Now, you can text me... So, text me as soon as you can."

John beamed at him, his heart thumping loudly. 

"Uh, Paul?"

"Yeah, John, love?"

John fiddled with the hem of his tank top, "I know we haven't known each other very long, but I feel this-this connection between us. I know that sounds sappy as hell, but... I-I just needed to tell you that..."

Paul grinned, placing a soft hand on John's arm and pressing his lips against the other man's cheek. John nearly erupted in joy and love. 

"Uhh- sorry..."

John cupped Paul's flushed cheek, smiling as he leaned in.

Sparks shot through John as he kissed Paul. It was a short lived moment, but beautiful nonetheless. Everything was burning with happiness. Paul grinned as he pulled away. 

"Now you have a reason to remember me," John said with a wink. Paul laughed and shut him up with another kiss.

"You're ridiculous. I'm gonna miss you, Johnny."

"Well then, how about you come to dinner with me tomorrow?" 

Paul grinned, "I'd love to."

As Paul walked away, John was coursing with joy. 

It was hot. That's all John could think about, but this time, it wasn't from the sun. It was from the burning love he felt for Paul.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! The title is taken from a Chicago song.


End file.
